By Any Other Name
by GenesisArclite
Summary: After Adam returns from Golem City, Aria figures he could use a bit of a pick-me-up, but even after she decides what to do, she still has to not die of anxiety (or embarrassment) in the meantime. Warning: cuteness overload. [Valentine's Day theme, pure fluff] [DXMD]


_**By Any Other Name**_

Despite its location beneath one of the busiest locations in this area of Prague, TF29 usually ended up very quiet when there wasn't enough to keep everyone at their stations. Meters of rock and earth insulated the little facility from the endless parade of noise that took place at street level. Down here, it was impossible to tell what time of day it was, or how many had _passed_ , unless a clock happened to be nearby. Easy to get lost in one's work. Easy to forget to sleep.

But after spending time scrambling around on overtime for days, Miller had taken pity – or maybe gotten fed up at last – on all of them and sent almost the entire staff home, sometimes over their meager protests. Or it might've been Delara's work, since she'd been seen going into his office and having an altercation... sort of. It had _really_ involved her standing there, stern and calm, hands on her hips, stripping away Miller's arguments until he finally gave up.

Or so Aria had been told. She'd been anchored to her desk for fourteen straight hours, so all she really had to go was what little chatter she could get around here.

"Nobody functions well when they haven't slept in two days," Delara had told her. "Eighteen hours is your limit, young lady. Then, you need to go sleep."

Aria knew better than to argue with a doctor, so she just nodded and sighed the moment the other woman's back was turned. She was less than ten feet from TF29's only entrance, yet with as much paperwork, requests for range access, and random junk that came across her desk, she may as well have been _miles_ from it.

What had happened in Golem City was still fresh in everyone's minds, but without any real progress being made, there was no point in hanging around. Nonessentials had been more or less sent home indefinitely, leaving desks and offices dark and only the soft blue glow of the facility's safety lighting enabled. A few had managed to stick around and burn some midnight oil, but even they were running out of things to do.

And even Aria, glancing at the clock to see that it was nearing fourteen hundred, had begun to run low on important stuff.

She leaned on her elbows, glanced at her desk, then at the entrance.

Lots of people came and went into the facility at every moment of the day. If they glanced her way at all, they gave her a nod, or sometimes a quick smile, or a wave if they were in a particularly good mood. She was chained to her desk, without much reason to go wandering around, and everyone knew it, so she was always glad when someone took the time to notice and interact with her.

But the one person she _actually_ cared about... hadn't yet.

Rather ashamed, she groaned and prodded at her desk, trying her best not to frown. Adam was TF29's only other augmented member, at least in this branch, and he had been nice to her – quite the opposite of what she had expected from how others commented on him being "gruff" or "scary". Not talkative, at least not about himself, but nice, and trying to cheer her up in his own odd way when she slipped into a little despair.

He'd been hard to miss, the tallest in the facility and the only one not wearing a standardized outfit, with shining gold filigree on his augs and a way of carrying himself that made everyone scramble out of his way.

But she liked him. A lot. More than she should.

But she barely knew him. Didn't she?

Word had traveled fast about Rucker's death and the resulting panic that had occurred in GC. She expected Adam to return here to debrief and process paperwork, but even though she knew he _had_ to be back in Prague by now – and though she had been sneaking glances at _every_ person who came through the entrance – he hadn't yet been down here.

It made her nervous and embarrassed. The longer he took to return, the worse her stomach felt. The anticipation felt like a knot she couldn't untangle. She was _thirty-two_ ("well-preserved", a well-meaning Smiley had told her one day) and felt as silly as a schoolgirl.

Her augmented hand smacked a stack of folders and rattled her desk.

"Oh, Aria, why are you still here?"

"Huh?" Aria lifted her head to find Delara standing in front of her, looking prim as always, and puzzled. "Oh, ah... I'm just finishing some stuff up here." _And waiting for someone_.

Delara moved closer and peered over the lip at her desk. "How much of this can wait until tomorrow? You–"

"Uh, none of it, at least right now."

To her credit, Delara did an excellent job of masking her incredulity, except for a brief raising of the brow. Her eyes were a darker brown than hers, intelligent, unwavering, as though studying her mind. "I see," she said. "Well, I just wanted to check on you. I'm making the rounds of whoever's left, since I'll be here a good three or so hours more. Things never slow down for me, but it's job security, so... I got no right to complain."

"Yes, ma'am." Aria nodded. "Don't worry, I'll leave as soon as I have a stopping point."

"Well, I hope that's nice and soon for you, Aria."

"Yes, ma'am." _Not too soon_.

Delara smiled and continued on, wandering off to bother someone else and leaving Aria alone with her thoughts once more. She shuffled some more papers, but as she opened a folder to check for anything urgent, her mind drifted again. What was wrong with her? Two, maybe three interactions, a daily "hey, Adam" that he nodded back to, and already she had sunk to the sort of levels that made her feel as though she'd downed a little too much wine. And what for? What was it about him that scared everyone else and didn't bother–

The doors slid open with a hiss; she practically felt her heart leap in her throat, but when she turned her head, all she saw was a very tired-looking woman with an armful of binders. Marcie, that was her name, Marcie something. Nice enough, if a little on the snarky side, giving her a nod.

Aria stifled another groan. She couldn't do this forever. Sooner or later, she had to drop the work and drag her tired body and brain back to her apartment. Then, while she was curled up in front of the telly with a bag of chips and dressed in her softest clothes, _then_ she could think about something other than work.

She looked at her desk. Flipped open a binder. Nothing useful there, nothing worth sticking around for, nothing worth sacrificing yet more of her already exhausted mind for.

The binder snapped closed, and she reluctantly shuffled everything back into place. Well, she would just have to see him another time, whenever their paths happened to cross again, which probably wouldn't be anytime soon. It dampened her mood even further, but she steeled her resolve, gathered what she needed, tucked it under one arm, and slid off her stool to the floor, the grating rattling with the landing.

In the quiet, with only the whisper of air through the ventilation system, distant sound of the server room's cooling system cycling, and the hum of dozens of computer fans, it was hard to deny how much she wanted sleep.

The entrance slid open again. She looked up.

For a moment, she felt as though something had triggered her fight-or-flight, feeling lightheaded a moment, before her brain took over and shut it down, leaving her flat-footed and staring with raised eyebrows. "Ah... Adam, you finally made it," she said. Her tone was higher than normal, annoying her.

"Finally?" The burr in his voice was a little harsher than usual, but not unfriendly at all. He just came off tired. "Has it been long enough that that's justified?"

"Sort of." _Stop that_. "When we heard about what happened, knowing you'd been sent in there, I was..." _Seriously, you can stop that_. "...I was wor– we were all worried, you know? Thought the worst, I guess. I'm glad you're okay." There. That came out right, didn't it? And it didn't sound _too_ personal.

The line of his mouth softened. "Don't ever worry about me, Aria. I'm probably the last person to need that."

 _That's not the point, you idiot_. "Okay, then. Are you... what're you up to?" _What, seriously?_

"Finishing up the paperwork. The best part of field work is, obviously, coming back to stare at papers and monitors for three hours, right?" She could _hear_ the eye-roll in his voice, making her grin. "Then I'm crashing for the night. That place isn't one that invigorates you, as you can probably guess. Are you leaving, then?"

She glanced at the items in her hands as though they hadn't been there a moment ago. "Oh, uh... yeah, in a minute. The range and everything will get locked down until I get back. Need anything before I go?"

"No, not right now. You go home and rest."

Hesitating, she studied his face, trying to gauge his expression or how felt – not easy, considering his eyes were hidden from her and he kept his body language completely neutral. "Hey, you don't sound so good," she said then. "Is everything okay? I know GC isn't paradise, and it can... it can really take a toll." She winced a little at the memory of images from inside the complex – of dirty bodies and pieces of augs scattered all over, of police in riot gear and the dark corners where what little light there was could never reach.

He didn't speak for a moment, but when he did, his voice was quiet. "You want the truth? No, not really. What I saw in there was bad, Aria. I'm not going to forget it anytime soon." A hand came up, fingertips rubbing across his forehead. "It's up there with the worst I've seen of human nature."

"I see. I get that." She looked him over again, noting the perfect cleanliness of his coat and how straight he stood before her, and wondered what he hid inside that iron shell. "I know this doesn't help, but... sometimes, all you can do is hope, and try to see the light at the end. At the end of every nadir is a light."

He lowered his hand, one eyebrow raising a moment, before the barest hint of a smile touched his lips, causing her breath to snag in her chest. _Oh, no, don't you dare smile at me_. "Actually, that _does_ help."

"Oh, it... it does?"

"Yeah. It's what I need to hear, right now. Thanks."

 _And you go thanking me, too. Idiot_. "No... no problem, Adam. I hope you feel better." _What?_

He nodded and turned away from her. She watched him go, suddenly remembering why she had been so fascinated by his presence – it felt warm and comfortable, safe, as though he could shield her from all the evil beyond these walls. Not that she needed it, of course, but he reminded her of a knight, mysterious and valiant.

Once again, she stifled a groan, wanting to bang her head on the desk hard enough to knock herself out. What in the vast kingdoms of Earth and Heaven was _wrong_ with her?

But instead of marching right back outside when she finished sealing the range and closing the lockers, she stayed planted in one spot, watching him ascend the stairs toward the Counterterroism section. Her heart ached in a lot of ways – for the people in GC, for the victims of the terror attacks in the city, for the Augs like her, and for Adam.

Of those four, Adam was the only one she could do anything about.

And it was stupid. So _stupid_. She ran the risk of chasing him off, or making it so he wasn't friendly anymore... but was he really the type to go to that extreme? Hard to tell. But she couldn't leave him with a stupid saying and a lot of stumbling over her words, not when he came off so tired that he seemed ready to fall over any second. Or maybe she was imagining these things. Maybe he was fine, and she was _looking_ for reasons to jump the gun.

Feeling befuddled, she looked at her desk, then back at the upper offices. No, no, no, no, _no_. Who knows how he'd react to her approaching him again, especially on even friendlier terms? Besides, what could she do? Stand there and awkwardly tell him more silly sayings? Pretend she had something important to do in the _one place in the entire facility_ _ **she never had any business in whatsoever**_ _?_

She smacked her forehead with one of the binders. It didn't help.

There was no point in denying how he made her feel, but attraction was easy. Ephemeral. When that faded, what would be left? What of Adam Jensen would she still have to hang on to?

Her heart pawed at her brain, demanding her attention. Trying to ignore it did nothing, because then it just got huffy with her and started digging tiny claws into her common sense, painstakingly tearing holes in it. Oh, who was she trying to fool? The woman she'd lived with all her life, Aria Argento, tough enough for the Marines, good enough to be one of the best marksmen on the force, and too tenderhearted to hurt much of anything (usually)?

She couldn't go up there and talk to him. That was too obvious, and he probably wouldn't appreciate the interruption after such a draining operation. She couldn't poke around the office for long, because it was right next to MacReady and he'd kick her out after making a string of rude remarks about her arm – that is, if he didn't catch on to her _reason_ for being up there, which would open a whole new box of problems, and she _didn't_ need his attitude. That _would_ warrant getting a good punch in the nose, which would send her talking to Miller, which meant she would need to explain why his best agent had a bloody nose, and she did _not_ want to deal with that.

But she could _leave_ something for him. But what? TF29 provided _everything_ an agent could possibly need, either out of pocket or at a discount, so there was nothing practical that came to mind.

What did she know about him? Not much. He liked expensive materials, though, judging from the fine leather of his coat and the golden flower patterns across the inside and its shoulders. Classy. She liked that (she liked everything about him, it seemed, really). But what did that tell her?

She mulled over that for a moment. She'd recently gotten paid, but not excessively, like the field agents or the Cybercrime unit. Until she was finally cleared for field duty again, she would have to make do with the credits she received, which were more than modest, but certainly nothing to brag about.

She set her items down on her desk again and leaned on it. Adam had mentioned three hours, but knowing Delara, she would hunt him down and kick him out long before then. That, then, left a question of "when" that would happen, and if she asked, then she'd have to answer the next question: why do you care?

Aria snorted and crossed the facility to Delara's office, the only place lit with warm yellow lights at the moment, and slid open the door without knocking.

"Oh, my!" Delara looked up at her with raised brows. "Oh, Aria, hey. Do you need something?"

Aria placed her hands on her hips. "Are you going to kick everyone out today, or just me?"

"Is this... is there a problem, Aria?"

"No, no problem. Honestly, none at all. Just asking."

The other woman brushed her bangs out of her face, then rested her elbows on the desk and folded her hands. "I plan to make sure everyone who needs it get out before six tonight, yes. Some people here only just got here, or whatnot, but I don't want too many people working any more hours than they need."

Pause. "So, when is that going to be?"

"Aria." She stood and folded her arms. "Now, you can be honest with me. What's this about?"

There it was. "It's nothing, really. No problems. I just–"

"Aria."

She bit her lip. "Adam just got back from a stressful op. That's all."

Something flitted across the other woman's expression, her pretty face crinkling slightly, before a knowing look entered her eyes. "Oh, I see," she murmured. "Adam Jensen. I see you two talking once in a while. He seems to like you." Aria had to use all her military training to keep her face frozen in neutrality at those words. "And you care about him?"

"He's a colleague," she said firmly. "That's all."

"Mmm. That's all. Of course." Delara smiled in a way that indicated she was trying not to. "I'll get him out of here in an hour at most, if he's still here. I saw him when he came in, and he's the _last_ person here who should be straining himself any further than necessary. Well, except Miller. Ugh, that man..." She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Thanks, Delara." Aria smiled and lowered her hands. "I'll see you later."

"That's what I'm here for, you know. Sleep well."

Aria chewed her lip as she left the office, gathered her things again, and took the elevator to street level, making sure her papers were in order and easily accessible. An hour would give her a lot more time than she needed, as she headed toward the shops near the center of town. A quick detour at her apartment complex was enough to get out of her uniform and drop off her things before she locked up and headed back outside, hiding her arm with a long-sleeved shirt and gloves, perfect for the chilly afternoon weather. Since she lacked any other obvious augments, she could move relatively freely, as long as she didn't draw any attention to herself.

Her destination was a tiny florist shop in the center of town, tucked away between a bar and a tech joint, owned by a middle-aged man with a nice smile. She had been there several times to get flowers for her apartment – she liked to keep them on the windowsill, where the incoming breeze could fill the room with their scent – but this was the first time she came not for herself at all. Embarrassment and anxiety prickled in her fingers, but she somehow doubted someone like Adam would be the least bit bothered by flowers.

No, it was more how _she_ would feel if he figured out it was _her_ doing.

It was a risk, but she was too tired to care all that much.

The little shop was one of the only florists she knew of still open in this part of the city, and the only one that served Augs still. The man didn't question anyone or even behave any differently, welcoming everyone – Augs, Naturals, police – with a smile and warm greeting. It was a place of peace, one she hoped survived a long time to come.

"Ah, Aria, welcome back." The owner, Benjamin, greeted her the same way every time, which she returned with a smile of her own. "Something I can help you find?"

"Maybe." The door clicked shut behind her, and her head swam with the heady, delicious scent of fresh flowers. Several refrigerated units held colorful collections that beckoned to her, somehow fitting seemingly hundreds of types in a space barely big enough for a dozen people to stand comfortably. "I'm not here for myself this time."

"Oh? Getting something for some _one_ , then?"

Heat touched her cheeks, but she swallowed her anxiety. "Yes, but I don't exactly know _what_ yet."

"I can help." He adjusted his shirt and smoothed out the wrinkles, putting on his best "business" face. "Tell me what you are looking for?"

"It's for... uh..." A "colleague" he was, but what was he to _her_? Could she call him a friend? Or was he was an acquaintance, oblivious to her affection and not interested in it at all even if he knew, and she was just chasing a fantasy? Was it girlish foolishness, enticed by the idea of such a powerful man giving her his time, and his kindness? "A man," was the best she could come up with.

"Oh, yes, I see, I see. Very important that you do right, yes."

Part of her couldn't believe he'd managed to pick up on the truth that easily, but all she had to do was remind herself he _ran a florist shop_. If _anyone_ knew the language of the heart, it would be a florist. Of _course_. Still, all she could do was give him a hopeless look, accompanied by a shrug.

"He sounds like he is special. Tell me if I'm wrong." Benjamin gave her a knowing look.

A sheepish smile reached her face. "No comment, Ben."

"Of course. You remember the language? You remember what the colors mean?"

Benjamin had given her the speech the first time she had come by, and she had been so intrigued by the ideas behind it that she hadn't forgotten at least some of it. "Kind of. Red means love, yellow means friendship, pink is affection... But that's roses, right? Don't other flowers mean other things?"

"Of course, but roses are _special_." He gestured at his selection, kept in bundles and refrigerated, under soft lights. "How do you feel about him? Choose the color on that, okay?"

The knot in her gut tightened as she examined the selection. Roses seemed to fit him, somehow, thorny and prickly, but with a bloom of color and velveteen softness at their apex. Maybe it was a little overboard, but now that the thought had entered her head, she couldn't pull it out again. Roses had always been nice – she kept white and pink ones in her apartment from time to time – and she figured she could choose one, just one, for him, and be done with it.

Her eyes were drawn to a long-stemmed red rose, its petals not fully opened, leaving its silhouette slender and strong. The moment she saw it, her mind was made up. "That one, please."

Benjamin looked pleased as he took it down and carefully bundled it with several other flowers she selected for herself. She paid for them, thanked Benjamin for his help, and practically fled before she could change her mind, self-conscious and embarrassed, but keeping her back straight and head high.

She made sure nearly two hours had passed before she returned to TF29.

It was even quieter now, Delara's office being the only one with lights on the ground floor. Still dressed in civ clothes, she nervously ascended the stairs, clutching the bag hiding the rose close to her chest. If _anyone_ questioned her, she would have to explain, or dodge, and she did _not_ want to have to do either.

She cursed upon seeing Marcie in the Counterterrorism office, hunched over her terminal and scrolling idly, every so often tapping a key as she went. All the other stations were dark – even Adam's, tucked in the corner and partially hidden by a stack of presumably empty boxes – which gave her just enough courage to wind her way through the chairs and desks, some of which were sitting about haphazardly, as she walked to his desk.

Marcie cleared her throat. Aria turned her head and met the other woman's eyes, silently _daring_ her to say a word, but she only raised both eyebrows, looking both incredulous and baffled, though only mildly.

Aria lifted her chin, turned around, and studied his desk. There was an empty box with "ACRNM" on the side, with packing peanuts scattered all over the desk and floor. His terminal was locked, the screen off. A whiteboard proclaiming "Aug is Here" stood in the corner, a thick black arrow pointing directly at his seat.

She frowned at the sight of it and laid the rose down at his terminal. Her cheeks and ears burned, but after coming this far, no _way_ was she going to back down _now_.

She crumpled the bag and turned, heading for the entrance.

"You'd sooner find a gold nugget under your pillow tomorrow morning, Aria."

Her strides stuttered until she came to a stop and studied the floor between her feet a few moments. Then, she raised her head and looked right at Marcie. "That's not the point," she told her. "This isn't me trying to get his attention. I'm just doing something nice for a colleague. He seemed like he needed it."

"So you pick a long-stemmed _red_ rose?"

Aria opened and closed her mouth, then scowled. "Not a _word_ , Marcie. Not _one_."

Marcie looked as though she was trying very, _very_ hard not to smile. She tucked a little of her blonde hair behind one ear before nodding dutifully. "Not a one, on my honor as a TF29 agent," she said, laying a hand over her heart and bowing a little over her terminal. Aria cracked a small smile. "Now, skedaddle. You looked bushed."

Aria swallowed, nodded, cleared her throat, and left as fast as she dared without giving Marcie the satisfaction of watching her nearly run for her life.

* * *

Despite wandering in a haze of grogginess last night, and still trying to pull himself out of it this morning, Adam knew for a fact _that_ hadn't been sitting on his desk yesterday.

He carefully picked up the rose by its stem, avoiding the thorns, and turned it over to look at its petals up close. They were soft against his fingertips and a very rich red in color, layered together in a pattern of controlled chaos that he had to admit he liked. It looked a little thirsty – easily fixed – but it still smelled exquisite, its color standing out among the sterile grays and blues that made up this part of the facility.

Still, though, that didn't explain how it gotten here. Delara had kicked him out only an hour into his work, refusing to leave until he had done so, despite his grumbled protests, and _following him_ to make sure he actually did leave. That hadn't left very many people – a janitor or two, maybe, and a few people he didn't know personally. Delara was _not_ the type of person to do this, and he didn't know of anyone else who–

He looked over one shoulder, just in time to witness several people suddenly hunch back over their terminals.

Both puzzled and amused, he looked back at the rose and turned it over again.

He would take it back to his apartment, tuck it in whatever he could find, and put it in a place of honor right in the middle of his living area. It would bring a much-needed spot of color. Maybe it would encourage him to do it more. Would it hurt to bring some life to the gloom once in a while?

As he finished the paperwork he had _intended_ to close out last night, he went back over the suspects. Digging through the fog of grogginess surrounding the afternoon memories, he thought about everyone he had interacted with. _Someone_ had left this here and chosen to do so specifically when he wasn't present, but why?

Then he remembered Aria, and hid his amusement. Of course. She was simply _nice_ , the nicest person by far in all of TF29 – in all of _Prague_ – to him. It had to be her doing.

He completed the paperwork, filed it away to the central server, locked the terminal, and picked up the rose, again taking a moment to examine it under the light. No one here would say a word to him about it. Well, except MacReady, but he wasn't going to walk past _his_ office, anyway. Delara might, but maybe not.

So, he grasped it by the stem, close to the bloom, and descended the stairs, heading directly for the exit.

Aria was there, bent over her desk and writing something with a pen, but as he approached, she looked up, giving him a small and familiar smile... until she spotted the rose, at which point it seemed to freeze on her face. "Oh, hey, Adam." She gave him the usual greeting, but her tone wavered. "What's that you got there?"

"Someone left it on my desk." He held it up and pretended to focus on it, but kept one eye on her, watching her skin turn a little pink. "Wish I knew who it was, but it is what it is. It's coming with me to my apartment, though. Someplace it can get water and a little sunshine once in a while."

"Oh, that's... nice of you, Adam." She sat up straight, fingers fiddling with the pen. He resisted the urge to let CASIE give him a passive reading – he wanted to do it himself. "I'm glad that... whoever it was left you something you liked." A long pause followed. He gazed steadily at her, and to her credit, she didn't look away. "Anyway, uh... I should get back to work. Duty calls and all. Paperwork never... stops."

It was a rare thing for him to smile. Very rare, and for good reason. But for her, he could spare one, and did so, a small one, but it was real, and he meant it.

Her skin visibly darkened, but she still, quite stubbornly, didn't look away. "At least it wasn't a waste," she said.

"No, Aria," he said, "it wasn't a waste at all."

* * *

 _A bit late, but written for Valentine's Day. It's pure fluff. Don't judge me. ;)_


End file.
